


We're People Too

by AwesomeGamer69Lol



Category: H20 Delirious, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Chapter Four Has Attempted Rape, Chapter Three Has Smut, Child Abuse, Cutting, Death in Childbirth, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-07-15 05:08:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7208966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwesomeGamer69Lol/pseuds/AwesomeGamer69Lol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jonathan (H20 Delirious) and Luke (CaRtOoNz) get drunk during a stream one night, Jonathan takes off his mask. All the fans see, and soon he's being sent pictures and and comments about his looks. It all starts getting to him. Jonathan starts drinking more, and one night at a bar he meets a woman. A woman who calls him handsome and makes him feel wanted. She says she doesn't know who he is, but he knows better than to trust someone. </p>
<p>*Will likely contain SMUT*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One - This is How it All Starts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathon and Luke get drunk while hosting a live stream. The fans ask John to take off his mask, and for some reason, he does. Everyone in the stream saw his face, and soon it's on every social media known to man.

**CaRtOoNz’s PoV**

          “You should take off your mask, John,” I slur. Delirious and I were doing a live stream. Sometime after his fifth shot, the fans had gotten him to turn on his face cam. Now, we were shit faced, and reading through the comments. A lot of people were asking for John to take off the mask, and show his real face. And for some reason, he agreed. At the time we didn’t think about it. Not about the consequences, the hate, the agony that it would bring.

  
           He chuckled as his hands dropped the beer bottle, and fumbled for the straps of his mask. Slowly, he brought it away from his face. All comments stopped, and I could almost hear the clicking sounds of cameras. Maybe it was then that I realized how much of a mistake he had made. It was far too late now; the mask was off, and everyone watching had seen his face. A face that I had seen many times, but almost no one else had. Jonathan was secluded, antisocial, even hateful. He believed he was ugly, unworthy of appreciation or love. He thought he was a burden to the world. He was thin skinned, yet no one knew. They all taunted him, sometimes to the point of tears.

  
           “Luke,” John’s voice didn’t seem as slurred as it had a minute ago. I look up at the screen, and scan the comments. Some were nice, but most weren’t.

  
           “Okay, guys. That’s it for this stream. Thanks for tuning in, and I’ll see you next time.” I end the stream, and turn my attention to Skype. John’s face is buried in his hands, and even though he isn’t making a noise, I know there are tears running down his cheeks. His body shakes slightly. “Jonathan?” I ask. His hand moves to cover the camera, and his screen goes dark. I hear him slam his headset down and walk away. I try texting him, but he doesn’t look at them. Finally, he ends the call.

  
           What had I caused?


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delirious heads to the bar, and meets a woman named Draven. They talk, and Draven asks Jonathon to go to her house.

**H20 Delirious’s PoV**

           I couldn’t control it. Tears of anger and pain escaped from my eyes. Luke had seen me cry before, but this was different. Everyone had seen my face. I was no longer the mysterious Youtuber. Soon, everyone would know what I looked like. Even my friends - Vanoss, Wildcat, Mini Ladd, etc - whom had never seen me before. “Jonathan?” I hear Luke say. I cover the camera, not having the ability to turn off the call. I get up and stomp away. A night at the bar might do me some good. I grab my keys, go to my room to end the call, and hop in my truck. There was no buzz left over from my previous drinks. I felt sober, and that seemed like a mistake. The bar wasn’t a long drive, about 3 minutes away. I get out of my truck, and head into the bar.

          As soon as I walk in, eyes turn to stare. I was always like the villain in western films. Music would stop, everyone would watch, disgusted and scared. I drop my head, shame overcoming me. I wasn’t very popular in this town. I was hated, all because I was different. I sit down on a bar stool as far away from everyone as I can. A bartender comes over to me, and I order a beer. I take drink after drink until the world starts spinning. When all the 3’s turn into 8’s, I know I’ve had a good amount. I order another shot of vodka, and quickly down it. I need something...stronger. I hear something next to me, and I turn to look. A girl sits down next to me, a bottle of beer in her hand. She smiles at me.

          “Hey. I’m Draven. And you are?” she says, putting her hand out. I want so badly to ignore her. Act like she didn’t exist. She only wants to talk to me so she can laugh at me.

          “I’m Jonathan,” I reply, shaking her hand.

          “It seems you’ve had a lot to drink. May I ask why?” I stare at her, a look of confusion probably on my face. Slowly, I shake my head. “Yeah. I figured that wouldn’t work. So, you come here often?”

          “Not really any of your business, is it?” I say, my voice rough. She doesn’t flinch, instead just studies me.

          “No. It’s not. I’m just seeing how much you’ll tell a stranger.”

          “Not much. I don’t tell anyone anything. Now if you’d leave me alone, that’d be great.” She smiles and locks eyes with me.

          “You don’t get out much, do you?” I want so badly to snap, but I can’t. She’s just telling the truth, no matter how evil it sounds. I sigh, but bow my head and nod. She moves her hand towards me, and I flinch. I didn’t want to, it just happens. Her facial expression changes to a kind of guilt, maybe sympathy, and she pulls her hand away.

          “So, what do you want to talk about?”

          “Nothing. I don’t know you, and I don’t want to,” I growl.

          “Just give it a chance. Let’s talk, and if you feel the same way in an hour, I’ll leave. Sound fair?”

          “Fine,” I grumble. I wasn’t nearly drunk - or sober - enough for this. She chuckles lightly.

          “So, what do you do for a job?” I look her up and down. Is she trying to make me uncomfortable? Because she’s doing just that.

          “Anything I feel like. I make money. That’s all you need to know.” She stares at me in silence, like she’s waiting for me to say something.

           Finally, she asks, “Aren’t you going to ask about my job?” I shake my head.

           “I don’t really care. So, why ask a question I don’t want to hear the answer to?” I order another drink, knowing I’ll need a few to get through this hour.

           “Well, I work as a carpenter. I basically build buildings, weld things, make cabinets, and so on.” I can’t deny it. I was slightly impressed. I look a little harder and start to notice some things that show she isn’t lying. The natural farmer's’ tan, the muscle definition, the scars. I assumed the last thing was from working.

           “What music do you like?”

           “Rock and rap,” I murmur. Her smile grows bigger.

           “Same here. Eminem is just so good at what he does. You ever heard B Rogers?” My heart thuds against my chest. Not many people know about B Rogers. He got some recognition because of Marcel’s -- BasicallyIDoWrk - outro song. She couldn’t know who I was, could she? I nod my head.

           “Yeah. He was kind of like Soulja Boy. Only has 1 good song,” I say, calming myself. She cackles at that.

            “You’re funnier than you let on. But it seems we got quite a bit in common. You said you like rock bands?”

           “Uh huh. Five Finger Death Punch, Breaking Benjamin. You get the picture,” I trail off.

           “Ever listened to Fit For Rivals?”

           “I don’t listen to girl bands.”

           “I don’t either. This band’s different. They’re good,” she replies. Our conversation kept going. The bar closed at 2:00, and we had to be kicked out. “You want to come to my house?” The glint in her eye tells me I should, but I know better.

           “You don’t want that. I’m going to my house,” I turn around, and head for my truck. I hear footsteps behind me, and Draven darts in front of me.

           “I do. But I won’t force you.” She pulls me into a hug, and I’m too stunned to do anything. I want to push her away, but it’s been so long since I’ve touched another human. The warmth and comfort was something I’d never felt. She pulls away from me and giggles, then takes off running. Waving my phone above her head.

           “Draven,” I snarl. I’m too drunk to run after her without falling.

          “Come get it, Johnny.” I lurch forward, taking off after her. Her eyes widen and she starts running again. I hit a branch with my foot and go down. Somehow, I manage to get Draven under me. I hold her down, searching for my phone. She laughs as I grab it and stand up.

          “You aren’t gonna offer me a hand?” she asks. I glare at her and shake my head. She gets onto her feet.“So, that’s your truck?” she asks, pointing toward my black pickup. I nod and check my pocket for the keys, making sure she hadn’t stolen those too.

           “Seriously, I had a good time tonight. Want to go out again some time?”

           “Ummmm,” I say, my jaw likely on the ground. She couldn’t be talking to me, could she? Maybe she thought I was something impressive. Something worth talking to. But I wasn’t. And it wasn’t like she could use me for anything. She takes a step toward me, and wraps her arms around my neck. Then her lips are on mine. I’m too shocked to do anything. She pulls away and looks up at me. “Can I get an answer now?” I push my hands into my pockets.

           “Yeah. I guess. I’m going back to my place.” She pouts and holds her phone out to me.

           “Could I at least get your number?”

           “Why are you so interested in me? What is it that you want?”

          “There’s just something about you. Makes you different from the other guys, you know?” _Yeah. I did know I was different from every other guy in the world. I was unique, but not in a good way._ I grab her phone and type in my number. “Thanks,” she says. “I’ll text you later. You’ll know it’s me.”

          She walks off and climbs onto a motorcycle. She waves at me, then takes off. This girl really might be my type. But, with my luck, there was no way I was her’s.


	3. Chapter Three *SMUT WARNING*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan goes to Draven's house, and some dirty things happen. So much smut in this chapter.

**CaRtOoNz’s PoV**

I scroll through Twitter, trying to get rid of as many pictures as I can. It seemed like everyone had a picture of Delirious to post. Other Youtubers weren’t saying anything about it, but the fans were going crazy. So many horrible things were being said, and I knew there was no way to stop John from seeing them. He’d see it all, and there was no way for me to comfort him. He wasn’t going to answer any of my calls, I knew that already.  
My face had already been seen. And there was always hate on every picture of me. I could handle that. But Jonathan couldn’t. With everything he’d been through, there was no way he’d suffer through this. I’d been able to talk him out of ending his life several times, but this would be different. No one could get this off the internet. He was seen, and now he’d be known.

**Delirious’s PoV**

As soon as Draven left, I felt different. A weird tingling feeling inside me that wouldn’t leave no matter how hard I denied it. I climb in my truck and drive home. When I check my phone I notice that Luke has messaged me countless times. I know I should message him back, but I don’t. No part of me was in the mood to face him. As I lay down in my bed, my phone goes off.

**Draven: Yo, dog. It’s your girl, Dravey.**

  
**John: Dravey? Really?**

  
**Draven: Lol. Yes. It’s my rap name.**

  
**John: It’s horrible.**

  
**Draven: Jeez. Real blunt with your opinion I see. How about...Ace D?**

  
**John: Better, I guess. But not that great.**

  
**Draven: Than tell me your rapper name.**

  
**John: No. It’s a secret.**

  
**Draven: Seems like you aren’t a real rapper. Guess I’m too cool to talk to you.**

  
**John: Whatever.**

  
**Draven: So, when you wanna go out?**

  
**John: Damn. Subject change much? I don’t know.**

  
**Draven: Offer to come to my place is still open. As long as you don’t turn out to be a serial killer and murder my dogs.**

  
**John: I would never hurt a dog. But you...may be a different story.**

  
**Draven: Is now a good time to wink?**

  
**John: Depends. How am I gonna hurt you?**

  
**Draven: Ummm...With a certain position?**

  
**John: Uh huh. Coming over to your place doesn’t sound that bad. Lol.**

  
**Draven: Sure you don’t want the address?**

  
**John: I’m good. Trust me; you don’t want me down there.**

  
**Draven: Why?**

  
**John: You don’t know me. Are you new to the town?**

  
**Draven: Yeah. And if you were down here, I’d know you better.**

A notification pops up on the top of my screen. Twitter. I click on it, and see how many people have posted pictures of my face. There was no way blocking these people would solve anything. The things popping up weren’t exactly supportive comments, either.

  
From: @Random_Bullshitty_Username: Jeez. I thought that Lady Gaga was ugly, but compared to you, she’s Beyounce.

  
From: @FANGIRL_NAME: I look hotter than that, and I live in Antarctica.

  
From: @MY_NAMETobuscus: Maybe Delirious should slam his face into a wall a few times. It can’t look any worse, so he doesn’t have to worry. But it might help him get some chicks without drugs.

  
I let out a cry and chuck my phone. It hits the wall with a loud THUD. I drop to my knees, and drag myself over to the phone. A large crack runs from the top left corner to the bottom right.

  
**Draven: You thinking about it?**

  
**Draven: Where’d you go?**

  
**John: Give me your address.**

  
**Draven: You changed your mind fast. *Insert address here***

  
**John: I’ll be over in a few.**

  
**Draven: Okay.**

  
I get in my truck and head to the address Draven gave me. In just a few minutes, I’m there. Her house is a big two story tin house. A barn sits next to it, attached to a pen containing horses. Dogs start barking, and I hear a door slam. Draven comes into my view.

  
“You’re okay with dogs, right?” she asks, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward her house.

  
“Yeah. How many you got?” My mind felt numb. I’d never had someone’s hand on mine. It was strange.

  
“3. A full grown Rottweiler and her two puppies. They’re sweethearts most of the time.”

  
“Most of the time? So you’re saying there’s a chance they’re going to rip my face off if I touch you?”

  
“There’s a chance. But their pretty well trained. If I wanted them too, they would attack you.” She opens the door and pushes me inside. One big dog lies on the couch, while two little ones sit next to the door. The mom lifts her head and stares at me, almost as if daring me to touch her kids. “So, what do you want to do?” She drops my hand and turns to look at me.

  
“Whatever,” I say quietly. Was she always this much of a flirt?

  
“How about…this?” she says, crashing her lips onto mine. I feel her mouth open, and her tongue darts out; running across my lips. I open my mouth, resting my hands on her waist. Her tongue touches mine in a battle for dominance, and I easily win. Her hand comes out of nowhere, grabbing the inside of my thigh. I try to suppress a groan, but I feel Draven smirk, and I know she heard it. She pulls away from me. “Are you going to take control, or is this all me?” I flip us around, slamming her into the door. I run my tongue down her neck, stopping and sucking on a few places. She tilts her head back to give me better access.

  
“Nach unten,” she growls out, and I stop. A hear a thud behind me. “The dogs. They were about to attack you. They were trained in German.” I go back to her neck, stopping at her collarbone. I grab the hem of her shirt and pull it over her head. My pants become extremely uncomfortable as I harden. She reaches her hands behind her and pulls off her bra. I let out a growl, attacking her chest. I take one nipple into my mouth, massaging the other with my fingers. She lets out small moans, urging me on. I run my hands down her body, grabbing her shorts and ripping them down.

  
My lust was overcoming me. I push my fingers against her folds, the fabric of her underwear still there. She bucks against my hand, and I know she’s growing desperate. I take her panties off, and I can smell her arousal. I push one of my fingers against her, gathering her juices to use as lube. Her head falls back as I thrust two fingers into her.  
“Just fucking take me.” Her voice is ragged. She reaches her hand down, and starts rubbing her clit. Her eyes rake my clothed chest, and I can see the want in her eyes. I dip my tongue in, licking her slit from top to bottom. She squirms against me, so I use one hand to hold her down. “Fuck yes,” she screams out. I feel her tighten around my fingers. I pull them out and push them into my mouth, sucking them clean. She lets out a whimper at the sudden emptiness. She leans forward, grabbing my shirt and pulling it over my head.

  
Her hands roam over my chest, making their way down to my Apollo’s Belt (V thing on guys. Look it up.) She tugs down my pants, leaving me in my boxers. Her fingers run along my base, and I groan, needing friction. She smirks at me and pushes my boxers down. She grips me fully, and slowly starts to pump me. Her tongue dips into my slit, making me need more. My heart picks up as she licks all the way up my base. Her tongue circles the head before she takes me in her mouth fully. I could empty into her mouth right then. But I needed to be in her at least once. I pull her off of me, and push her onto the floor; climbing on top of her.

  
“You’re sure?” I ask, staring her in the eye. She nods, panting heavily. I line myself up with her entrance and slowly push myself in to the hilt. I stay there, letting her adjust to my size. She nods at me, rocking her hips against me, so I start moving. I build up my speed, each time hitting her harder. She lets out delicious noises, so I pull her mouth to mine. I pull away from her mouth, trailing wet kisses down her neck. Her nails dig into my back and she lets out a scream. She motions to the dogs, keeping them down as I hit her G-spot again. I feel something other than sweat run down my back; blood. “You’re so fucking wet just for me.” I use my thumb to rub her clit. She bites down on my shoulder as she cums again.

  
“Claim me, Jonathan. Do it,” she whispers. I give a few more thrusts, her walls still clenched around me from her orgasm, and come undone. I kiss her, pull out, and fall onto the floor next to her. Blood mixes in with the juices that glisten on my cock.

  
“You…you were a virgin?” I ask, my voice shaking. She nods. “Fuck. You should have told me. I could have made it better. You could have done it with someone else. It wouldn’t-” She cuts me off with a kiss; her hand rests on my chest.

  
“It couldn’t have been better. Except, I can already feel the pain.” I chuckle.

  
“Yeah. It’ll go away…eventually. Just like those bites on your neck.” Her hand reaches up, and she touches the bites. A smile grows on her face.

  
“Not if you keep leaving new ones.”

  
“You’re saying you want me over again?”

  
“Yes. I’ve never had this much fun in one night. Never gotten to first base after just meeting, either. I’d say you did great.” She turns to face me, and I notice the faint trail that tears left behind. I made her cry; all because I was rough. She pulls me into a delicate kiss, almost like the very first one we shared. My heart was still beating loudly when Draven pulled herself onto my chest; both of us still naked. Let’s just say I didn’t remain flaccid for long.

  
She adjusts herself, and somehow grazes my cock with her ass. I feel myself getting hard again. Her breasts were in my face, and I wanted so badly to cover them in bites. I could feel her juices dripping onto my chest. I wasn’t sure if they were from a new arousal or not. She moves her hand back and touches my tip, making me shudder. She giggles.

  
“Again?” I stare at her.

  
“With a body like that, how could I not?” I grab her legs, pulling her onto my face. She lets out a shriek as I press my tongue against her. She rocks her hips against my face, letting me coat everything in spit. One of her hands moves down so she can touch herself, but I grab it first. I pin both of her arms against her, depriving her of the touch she wants. I move my other hand down and grab myself. I start masturbating, knowing Draven’s almost finished.

I pull her clit into my mouth, grazing it with my teeth. She lets out a moan, and I drop her hands. Instead, I grab her ass, digging my nails into it. Her fingers tug at my hair as she begs me to finish her. I continue licking her folds. She moves her hand down again, and this time I let her touch herself. I suck on her clit, knowing that's her most sensitive spot. She shrieks my name, pulling at me harder. I lick all her juices, loving the taste of her.

  
She cusses as she comes down from her high. She pulls off my face, and falls down next to me. Her eyes go down to my hand, and she takes its place. She moves her hand quickly, adding small bits of pressure. She leans over me, and envelopes me in her mouth. I push my hands into her hair, almost unconsciously, and move her at my pace. I buck my hips up, hitting the back of her throat easily. She moans, the vibration of it setting me off. I release my load into her mouth, and she swallows it before pulling me into a kiss. I can still taste the lingering taste of me on her.

  
“Damn. You’re good at that.” I groan. She blushes, but smiles at me.

  
“Thanks. But that tongue of yours has got skill.”

  
“You saying you like what I can do with it?” She freezes, and after a moment, nods. “I can do it whenever. Gives me a reason to taste you.” She tries to bury her face in her arms so I don’t see the blush. She moves closer to me and wraps her arms around me, setting her head on my chest in the process. She’s so warm and soft. It feels amazing. No girl had ever stuck along after sex. Not until now. Her fingers run along my chest, stopping on one of the scars. I try to pull away, but she holds my arms down. “Don’t touch me,” I growl, struggling beneath her.

  
“I’m just looking, Jonathan. I won’t hurt you.” I bit down on my lip, stopping myself from saying anything else. “Where’d you get these?” She turns to look at me, so I move my head. She moves on top of me again, and pins my head between her hands. “Where did these come from?” she asks.

  
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say, pushing her off me.

  
“It’ll make you feel better.”

  
“No. I don’t need you looking at me with disgust like everyone else. You don’t need to look at them.”

  
“I won’t. If this isn’t a one night stand, I should get to know about you.” Her hand grabs onto mine again.

  
“You don’t want to know me. Why can’t you understand that?” I shout, my voice steadily raising.

  
“I do. I want to because you’re different; you’re guarded. But there’s something in you dying to get out. You’re an animal, but you’re sweet and gentle.”

  
“Sweet and gentle? You don’t know me, if that’s what you think.”

  
“Then let me get to know you. What we just did? That was gentle. You won’t accept the truth because you know it’s harsh. But I’m not lying to you. Do you not know the affect you have on women; on me?”

  
“How the hell was that gentle to you? You bled and cried.” I say, my voice faltering. Her words were lies; I had to keep telling myself that.

  
“Compared to what you could have done, that was gentle. It hurt, but it could have been so much worse.” She pauses; then whispers, “You didn’t rip me.” That didn’t make me feel any better. She stands up, and offers me her hand. I stand up on my own, ignoring her. I feel vulnerable; standing naked in a strange house surrounded by attack dogs. “Want to come to my bed? Just lay down for a bit.”

  
“I should probably leave,” I say, my voice low. I pull on my pants and boxers.

  
“Or you could stay here. And then you could leave in the morning.” She grabs my shirt off the ground and pulls it on. It hangs from her frame, long enough that it covers part of her ass.

  
“Are you…uh…you know. On the pill?” She shakes her head.

  
“First time, remember?”

  
“Fuck.” I lower my head, not sure what to say.

  
“No one gets pregnant from one time. We’re good.” She laughs lightly. “Now follow me.” She turns and walks off. My eyes drift lower, watching the sway of her ass as the shirt rides up. I bite the inside of my cheek, knowing I can’t fuck her right now. I start after her, ending up in her bedroom. She closes the door behind me and pushes me onto the bed. She crawls onto my lap, kissing me. I reach my hands back, smacking her perfect ass. She lets out a moan, biting down gently on my lip.

She pushes herself off me, trailing her hand down my body. Her fingers catch on the obvious bulge straining in my pants. She falls into bed next to me. I reach my hands up to touch her, but she swats me away.

  
“No more for you tonight. I would like to be able to walk tomorrow.”


	4. Chapter Four *Trigger Warning*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draven learns something terrifying about the man she likes. Meanwhile, Jonathan has something to get off his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains rape themes and reference to abuse and cutting. Do not read if sensitive to any of these things.

**Jonathan's PoV**

I wake up with Draven draped across my chest; her bare flesh rubbing against mine. Her shirt had risen up her stomach, stopping just below her breasts. I still had boxers on, but the tightness of them was horrible. Of course I had woken up with morning wood. Why did she have to be asleep? An animalistic fire ignites in my gut. All thoughts leave my mind, and I hear a snap. And then I’m not there. I was trapped in my body, and now someone else was controlling it.

I – or maybe I should say He - tear the shirt off her body, leaving her completely naked. My hands move up her body, stopping on her breasts. My thumb and index close around a nipple, and I pinch it. Hard. I flip her over, pressing her face into the bed. I growl as I bury my face in her ass. My tongue darts out and runs over her hole. Her body shudders beneath me, but she doesn’t wake up. I wrap my hand around my cock, pumping it, before positioning myself with her ass.

“No,” I try to shout, but no sound is heard. He won’t let me speak. I try to fight him, but he’s stronger than me. He easily throws me away, a laugh following. “Leave her alone.” He laughs louder, and pushes himself flush against her. That’s when I hear it; a choked whisper.

“Jonathan?” Draven says, her voice barely above a whisper. She tries turning over, but I pin her down. “What the fuck are you doing? Get off me.” I push myself against her hole, ready to push in. And that’s when she starts fighting. Her arms flail back, trying to punch me. Finally, she grabs my hair and pulls backwards. Using the stunned moment to her advantage, she kicks me in the chest and leaps off the bed. The kick doesn’t stop me. I grab her leg, pulling her back up onto the bed.

“Get off her,” I scream. My vision goes black, and a hand closes around my throat. I can’t breathe. I choke in the air as my vision comes back and the hand leaves my throat. No. I move my hand up, and see ghostly translucent skin. I can barely see the outline of myself. But I can see the scene before me; my body forcing itself onto Draven. I run forward, my hand clenched into a fist. I pull back and swing, watching as my hand and arm go right through him.

“Delirious, please. Leave her alone,” I yell. His head snaps back to look at me at the mention of his name. I swallow the lump of anger in my throat and stare him down. “Get out of my head.” He laughs, and my hatred burns. “You motherfucker,” I scream as he grabs her by the hair and forces himself into her mouth. I charge at him again, feeling more…solid. I punch, and this time it connects. He catches my fist in his hand, and twists it behind my back. I let out a growl, elbowing him in the gut.

He loosens his grip slightly; just enough for me to push away from him. He stands up and kicks Draven in the chest. I can hear the air leave her as she drops. Then he’s on me. He jumps onto me, hands pressing into my shoulders, legs on top of mine. I struggle beneath him, but there’s nowhere to go. His fingers touch my neck, caressing it before pushing his thumbs into my windpipe. I reach my hands up, and barely get them around his throat. He doesn’t look fazed as he continues squeezing.

Spots dance in my vision from the lack of oxygen. My hands fall away from his neck, and I know I’m almost gone. He spits in my face, mixing in shame with the defeat. I hear a thud, maybe even a crack, and he drops. I push him off me, and see Draven. She holds a metal baseball bat in her hands. She wipes at her eyes, not letting herself cry. I straddle my body, looking at the blood dripping from my head. I grab my hands, and I’m back into my body. I gasp for air as my eyes flutter open. Draven screams, and gets ready to swing again.

“Wait. I can explain,” I say, holding my hands in front of my face. I’d used that line so many times, and it had never gotten me out of anything.

“No you can’t. I thought you were a good guy. I should call the police.” She looks around for a phone, and I stand up. A knife pierces my temple, exploding my head in pain, and I collapse.

“I’m sorry. But I can’t…control him. I thought he was gone.” I pull myself into a ball, hoping the pain in my head leaves.

“He? What the hell do you mean by ‘he?’” “Delirious,” I whimper. “He’s my other side. And he’s always in my head,” I say, my voice getting louder as I hear his voice.

“Tell him to stop. Please, make him stop.”

**_“I’ll kill her right in front of you. Make you do it. Slice her throat. Pull her guts out.”_** He lets out moans as he speaks. **_“They’ll find you, covered in her blood, fucking her corpse. And you’ll kill them too. Flee the scene, and go pay Dad a visit. Just do it. Wrap your hands around her pretty little throat. Steal that bat and bust her kneecaps.”_** His voice gets louder, and he’s the only thing I can hear. I put my hands over my ears, but he’s in my head. _ **“Fucking kill your filthy little whore. End her,”**_ he screams at me.

“I’m not going to hurt her. Leave me alone.” I see Draven. Her mouth is moving, she must be saying something, but I can’t hear anything. Something hits my chest, over and over again. My ears pop, and I can hear Draven crying. I open my eyes. She stands over me, pushing on my chest. She stops and turns to look at me.

“Your heart stopped. I thought you were dead,” she whimpers out. Both of our breathing is heavy. Delirious’s voice isn’t filling my head.

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave. I’m so fucking sorry,” I whisper, my voice cracking.

“Let me stitch up your head first. It’s bleeding pretty badly.” I start to object, but she raises her hand and I don’t have it in me to argue. She leaves the room, and comes back a few minutes later with an armful of supplies. She cleans it, and then stitches it up.

“Doesn’t this hurt?” she asks. I shrug.

"I’ve felt worse."

“Are you going to tell me about the scars yet?”

“You’ll make fun of me.”

“No. Jonathan, you’re going to have to trust me. Just start talking.”

“Fine.” I pause, not sure how to say it. “I’ll just be blunt. My mom died giving birth to me, so my dad blamed me. He’d wait by the door after school so I couldn’t run. Then he’d take all his anger out on me. Better?” I look up at her.

“What would he do?"

“He beat me. Don’t you get that?”

“I mean, with what?”

“I’m not telling you that.”

“John. Get it all off your chest,” she says, her voice soothing.

“You really want to know?” She nods. “He’d put me to work and whip me if I slowed down. Sometimes it was just his fists. Other times he had weapons. He threw bottles at me, put his cigarettes out on me. He’d strip me down and touch me. Bring his sick friends over so they could do what they wanted with me. Break shit over my head. Anything he could get his hands on, it was hitting me.” I close my eyes, trying to keep the memories away.

“You wanna say anything else?”

“What do you think?”

“What are the marks on your chest from?"

“Mostly knives and glass. This one,” I say, pointing to a long scar. “is from surgery. Beat me hard enough that I started bleeding inside. I got outside and someone took me to the hospital. He was pissed cuz I cost him money, you know? I was sick of him, so I decided to fight back. That was the worst one I’d ever gotten.”

“What about these on your legs?”

“Some of those are…uh…from me. My dad used to tie me down to a bed. And he’d break a beer bottle against my knee. Then he’d pull a piece of glass from my skin and run it up my body. He’d let me bleed, sometimes he’d lick it off. He’d…uh…he’d drip blood onto himself and make me lick it off. He liked to use my hand to please himself. And he’d make me clean it up afterwards. Mother fucker doesn’t deserve to die. He should have to go through everything he did to me. 16 years of it.” Draven pulls me into a hug.

“Don’t you feel a little better now?” I nod my head slowly. Talking to someone was nice. It was…different.

“I’m sorry, Draven. I’ll leave you alone,” I say, standing up. She grabs my hand, making me look back at her.

“Come over as often as you want. And please, stop apologizing.” She pulls me into a hug, her face burying itself into my chest. I awkwardly put my arms around her, pulling her closer to me. She smiles and pulls me into a quick kiss before pulling away from me.

“I’ll talk to you later. Message me when you get home, yeah?”

“Yeah. Uh...bye.” She waves at me, a smile on her face. I walk out of her room, making sure I have everything. I get into my truck, and head home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey readers. Thanks for all the support you've been giving me on this new book. Feel free to suggest more book ideas or chapter ideas in the comments. Feedback is always appreciated.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan comes home and gets surprised by Luke. While Luke is there, Delirious starts telling Jonathan what to do. Luke and Draven want Jonathan to get help. 
> 
> *CONTAINS SMALL MENTION OF SELF HARM*

**Jonathan's PoV**

 

I pull up to my house, and storm inside. I slam the door behind me, and slide down it. Tears rush down my face, and I remember how unmanly I am. What man cries almost every night? How can I be a man if I’m this sensitive?

 

“Jonathan?” a voice shouts from outside the house. He starts to open the door, but I reach up and turn the lock. “Open the door. I came all the way down here, we need to talk. You can’t just ignore everything…and everyone.”

 

“It happened again. He came back, and I don’t think he’s leaving this time.” Luke falls silent, knowing about Delirious. “He attacked a girl, and almost killed me. I’m,” my voice falters. “I’m scared, Luke. I don’t want a repeat.”

 

“Let me in, and we can talk about this. Every part of it.” I stand up and open the door. Luke steps inside, quickly closing the door behind him. “How’d he almost kill you?” he asks, taking a seat on the couch.

 

“He took over my body. It was like someone turned off the lights, and when it became bright again, I wasn’t in my body anymore. I watched him use my body to take advantage of this girl, Draven. Then he came over and started to strangle me. But Draven knocked him out with a bat. I got back in my body, but he was still in my head. He still is, but he’s silent right now. She wants to see me again, but I can’t put her in danger.”

 

“How do you know he’s still in your head?”

 

“Because he’s forcing his way into my brain, and it feels like something’s eating me from the inside out. He wants to take control, but he’s weak right now. I can hear his words nagging at me. He wants to speak instead.”

 

“What does he want to say?”

 

“That I’m going to kill you. And that he’s getting stronger.” I spit out, not being able to stop his words. The nagging feeling was becoming painful, like someone was spilling drop after drop of acid on my skull.

 

“Jonathan, you can fight him. You’ve won before.” I drop my head into my hands, trying to focus on kicking him out of my head.

 

“You don’t understand. There is no winning. He’ll kill her just like he killed Sam.” I raise my head, surprised at my own words. I never talked about Sam. Luke stares at me, almost like he’d just watched me murder someone. “Luke, you need to leave.”

 

“I’m not leaving.”

 

“Leave my house. Right fucking now,” I yell, standing up. I can feel his eyes on me as I turn around, waiting for him to leave. Instead, he stands.

 

“I’m staying with you.”

 

“No. Get out. GET out. GET OUT,” I scream, grabbing the closest thing to me – a bowl – and throwing it at Luke. He ducks, but makes no attempt to leave. I charge at him, plowing into him, and taking him to the ground. I land on top of him, knee pressed into his gut.

 

“Jonathan, it’s-” he starts, but I cut him off with a punch to the face. I bring my fist in for another hit, this time cracking his nose. Blood starts running down his face, making his beard red. “It’s me. Stop it.”

 

“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up,” I yell, getting louder with each word. His words rang in my ears, louder and more terrifying than screams. I press my knee into his chest, and feel a sick satisfaction at the sound of him gasping to breath.

 

“Jonathan, please,” he croaks out. I continue my chant as my hand feels around for something to shut him up. I grab a pillow and shove it over his face. I hold it down with one hand, the other one keeping his hands off me. He struggles beneath me, not being able to breathe at all now. Usually, Luke was much stronger than me, but I could feel Delirious’ power seeping into me. The thoughts I was having weren’t mine. They were his. Yet, they felt right. Like, what I was doing was supposed to be happening.

 

“Jonathan, get off him,” a female voice shouts. I look up and see Draven standing in my doorway. A look of horror is frozen on her face.

 

“That’s not my name,” I roar, anger pulsing through me. She comes running toward me, a well concealed glint of fear in her eyes. She grabs my hands, trying to pry it off Luke. I keep holding the pillow down, and using my other hand, I punch her in the gut. She staggers back a little, all wind leaving her, and then she surges forward. Her fist connects with my face, making me loosen my grip on Luke. He pushes up, making me fall to the floor. He lies on the ground, coughing as he sucks in air. He rolls over and retches; a sob like sound escaping him. “Get away from me,” I hiss as Draven crawls onto me, pushing my hands above my head.

 

“You,” she says, pointing at Luke. “Get me a rope or something. We need to tie his hands together.” He drags himself to his feet, and takes off running.

 

“I’ll break out of them,” I declare, a smirk on my face. I could easily push Draven off me, but what fun would that be?

 

“Get out of his head, will you? You won’t win this battle.” I chuckle.

 

“Then what was this morning? It seems that I won that battle. And I could easily do it again.” I move one of my hands up, easily breaking her hold on me, and touch her face.

 

“Next time, I’ll do so much better. You’ll be lying in blood by morning.” I run my hand down her neck before flipping her over.

 

“I’m not afraid of you,” she says.

 

“It doesn’t matter if you are now. Jonathan is terrified of me, and soon enough, you will be too. Liars are always the first to be killed.” Someone – Luke – grabs my hands and pulls a zip tie tight around them. He shoves me off Draven, and drags me over to a door, tying my hands to that too. “Oh, come on, buddy. I was just joking,” I shout as Luke walks back into the living room. The two start talking, and I black out.

 

*** * ***

 

I wake up and see Draven sitting on the counter. Her eyes stay on me. I can hear Luke’s voice, but I can’t see him.

 

“Jonathan?” she asks. I lower my head and nod.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m dangerous.”

 

“Don’t apologize to me. You didn’t almost suffocate me.” She calls Luke’s name, and he walks into the room. A mix of anger and pity shows on his face.

 

“I’m sorry, Luke. I wasn’t blocking him in, and he got a hold of me. Then I wasn’t there anymore.” No one says anything. “You guys can leave. Please, don’t talk to me anymore. I don’t want to hurt anyone else.”

 

“Jonathan, we aren’t leaving you. We’re getting you help,” Luke says.

 

“No. No. You can’t. I’m not going to some random person who says that I should trust him.”

 

“It’s for your own good. If you go, you can get him out of your head,” Draven replies.

 

“You can’t promise that. He’s been with me for 29 years. He’s not leaving because some bullshit guy tells me things that are supposed to make me feel better. You think I want to pay someone $100 a minute to tell me lies. Or, better yet, he can go and tell everyone everything I tell him.”

 

“They aren’t allowed to say anything about you to anyone. It’ll help you.”

 

“It won’t help. It would be a mistake and you know it. You think he won’t tell anyone that I killed someone? That I’ve attempted to kill several innocent people? That I wish for someone to end my pathetic life every day? You think he won’t laugh at me as he calls the police, and puts me in jail for the rest of my life?” I shout. Draven stares at me in shock.

 

“I can’t leave you alone, but I can’t be coming down from my place all the time. You’re a danger to yourself and everyone else,” Luke says. He moves forward, grabbing my still bound wrists. “You think I haven’t noticed these? Or the ones on your legs? I know they aren’t all from your father. You aren’t ending your life. I’m not losing you.”

 

“I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself. And I certainly don’t need a stranger telling me how to run my life.”

 

“You do need my help. He’ll take control of you, and then there will be no saving you.”

 

“There already is no saving me. Just fucking leave. I can stop him by myself. He only acts up when there are people around.”

 

“Which means you can never leave the house. Let us help you. Please,” Draven says, moving toward me. She crouches in front of me, looking into my eyes. “You’re a good guy, Jonathan. And I want you to not have to worry about hurting people. I don’t want to have to hurt you to protect myself. Let us help.”

 

“No,” I say, and stand up as far as my restraints will let me. “You won’t have to worry about hurting me. I told you both to leave, and then you won’t have to worry. I’m fine on my own.”

 

“But you aren’t on your own. He’s in your head. You’ve said it yourself,” Luke says. “But if you go through with this, you still won’t be alone. He’ll be gone, but we’ll be with you. I’m not leaving you because Delirious is back.” Once he says the name, it feels like someone just punched me.

 

“Don’t say his name,” I hiss out. “And get these damned handcuffs off me.” I tug at them, shaking the door behind me.

 

“They aren’t coming off until you get logic through your head. You’re getting help, and afterwards, you’ll be safer. Let us help,” Draven says.

 

“Whatever. Take these off, and I’ll go once. Then I’m fucking done. Understand?” They both nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, readers. I just want to say  
> 1) Thank you for all the love on this. That includes the comments, the Kudos, everything.  
> And 2) I'm sorry for not updating sooner. I would like to get onto an updating schedule. I just haven't had any inspiration lately, but I will hopefully be getting a few out a week. I think this book will be ending soon, likely no longer than 10-15 chapters. I already have the ending planned out, but it might change.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan goes to a therapist, as requested by Luke and Draven. When he gets there, Delirious' voice starts filling his head.

**Jonathan's PoV  
**

            “Jonathan, are you ready?” Luke calls from downstairs. I sat at the end of my bed. My heart was pounding. I didn’t want to go to this session, but Draven and Luke had guilt tripped me into this. I head down the stairs, and come face-to-face with Luke. “We have to leave, or we’ll be late.” He grabs my arm and drags me out the door to Draven’s car.

            “Do I have to go?” I ask, putting my hands against the car roof so they can’t push me inside.

            “Yes. We already talked about this. Now get in the car,” Luke says, pushing me toward it. I sigh and get into the back seat. Draven sits in the driver’s seat, and Luke gets into the passenger side.

            “What am I supposed to tell him?” I ask.

            “The truth. Tell him whatever you want to get off your chest. But tell him about,” Draven pauses. “ _Him._ He can help you with it.”

            “What happens when they declare me insane and I never see you guys again?” They turn to look at me, a look that says, ‘that’s not funny’ on their faces.

            “You’ll be fine,” Luke says, and turns to look out the window, ending the conversation. The rest of the ride is quiet, and when we finally reach the building, I’m happy to get some fresh air. The building is brick, and the inside is covered in bright colors; almost like they’re mocking my depression. I sit down in a wooden chair that’s spray painted neon green. I lock eyes with Draven. She comes and sits next to me.

            “Hey, you’ll be fine. It’s only one hour, and we’ll be waiting out here for you. Just tell him everything, and then we can leave.”

            “I can’t tell him everything, and you know that.” I put my hands over my face and sigh. “You guys won’t leave, right?” She nods.

            “We’ll be right here. I promise,” she says.

            “Don’t promise me anything. Just…just stay here. Please.” She nods and grabs one of my hands.

            “We’ll stay here. If you need anything, just come out here.” She gives me a small kiss as I go back to the room. It’s a big room that is the complete opposite of the rest of the place. The walls are painted a dark gray with matching furniture.

            “You must be Jonathan?” a man asks. He has a rich person look to him. Greased back graying hair, a wrinkled face, thick glasses that sit on the end of his nose. He didn’t seem like the type of guy who would laugh at a joke, much less tell one. I nod my head; answering the question. “Please, take a seat.” I awkwardly walk over to a chair opposite him, and sit down. He leans back in his seat, pulling a pen from behind his ear. “So, Jonathan, what brings you here?”    

            “Some people I know are making me go here. They think I need help.”

            “And do you?”

            “Think I need help?” He nods. “I mean, yeah. But I’m not into this whole self pitying thing.”

            “It’s not pitying yourself. You’re simply freeing yourself of burdens. So, tell me what brings you here.”

            “There’s something in my head,” I mumble.

            “Like what? A voice?”

            “Yes. A voice that makes me do things I don’t want to do.”

            “What are some of these things?”

            “It puts words and thoughts into my head. I had the urge to…hurt someone I know. I attacked him.”

            “Was this the first time it’s made you attack?”

            “No.”

            “How does it make you feel?”

            “Seriously? I don’t have control of my own actions most of the time. How do you think I feel? I feel like a monster. That I’m not worthy of anyone and that I shouldn’t be here.” He stops to write something on his clipboard.

            “How long have you been having these thoughts and feelings?”

            “For as long as I can remember. The voice has always been there.”

            “Is this anything that makes the voice go away, or makes it any better?”

            “No. Nothing lessens it.” His eyes bore down on me.

            “Does anything make it worse?”

            “If I get angry I can’t control him. I mean, it. I can’t block it out.”

            “How does it typically make you feel mood wise?”

            “I get mad easily. I feel like everyone hates me. I don’t feel like I should trust anyone.” My voice was low, and I wanted to leave the room. I didn’t want to sit here and talk to this guy about my problems.

            “Do you trust me, or feel that you should?”

            “No,” I answer, looking up at him for the first time.  

            “Why do you not trust people?”

            “Not really any of your business, is it?” I growl.

            “Jonathan, I’m just trying to help you. The more answers you give me, the faster we can get this figured out.”

            “Fine. I don’t trust people because I always get betrayed at some point. I don’t see why I should get my hopes up, or tell people my secrets, so they can leave me and tell everyone about me.”

            “You don’t need to be scared of people. It’s a natural instinct to want to tell other people things you’ve heard. They aren’t doing it just to you.”

            “I’m not scared of anyone.”

**_What about our dad? Or me?_ ** _Now’s not a good time. Like, at all._

            “You need to let your defenses down, Jonathan. I didn’t mean to do anything to offend you.” His voice was quiet compared to Delirious’ words.

**_You really think you can get rid of me? We’re linked, John. We’re best buds. Remember all the good times we’ve had together?_ ** _I don’t recall any good times. You forcing me to do things that are illegal has never made me smile or appreciate you._

“Jonathan, are you listening?” I look up at the man, whose name was unknown to me. “I asked you a question. Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Doing fine. What was the question?”

“Can you hear him right now?”

**_Go ahead. Tell him you can hear me. Then stand up, grab that lamp, and smash him over the head._** As he talks, my eyes dart around the room and see what he sees. **_You could bash his head open against the corner of the desk. Escape through that window, and never look back._** _Shut up._ It takes all my willpower not to scream the word.

“Can you hear him?”

“Yes. I can always hear him, don’t you get that?” I yell at him. He tilts his head, staring at me.

“You know they don’t want you? Those two out there. Luke and...what’s her name? Draven, is it?” the man asks.

“How the hell do you know their names?” He laughs.

            **_How could he possibly know their names? But it’s not the guy you care about, is it? You just want to be the knight in shining armor, and save the girl. A hero would save them both. But most heroes don’t have someone else in their head, huh?_**

“Get out of my head,” I scream. “Get out of his.” His voice echoes around the room. Someone knocks on the door, calling my name. Just as the person goes for the door knob, the dead bolt turns.

            “Jonathan, open the door,” Luke yells. I stand up and run toward the door, but the man behind me pounces on me. He manages to grab my legs, and bring me down. He grabs me, and pulls me away from the door. I try to grip something, but nothing stops him from pulling me. The man had the strength of Delirious. _Could he now jump hosts?_ He drops my feet and picks up a metal desk lamp. I try to push myself up, but he stomps on my leg, twisting it at an uncomfortable angle.

            “Get off me,” I scream as he climbs onto me, straddling my chest. I bring my arms up to shield myself, knowing I can’t pry the weapon from his hands. He brings it down, smashing the neck of it into my arm. I let out a scream of pain and rage as everything below my elbow goes numb. A stinging pain races up my arm, and I can practically feel a bruise forming. He brings it down again, misses my face, and slams it into my chest. It feels like a truck had just hit me, going 100 mph. He hits me again and again, each time hitting me harder.

            “Does it hurt yet, Johnny Boy? Do you feel your end?” He drops the lamp onto the floor, and climbs off me. My whole chest stings except for one area that pulses. I draw in air, and more pain pushes through me. I feel like I can’t breath as I start coughing.

            “What the hell did you do to me?” I manage to say between coughs and gasps. He laughs, a deep, clique villain laugh.

            “What do you think I did?”

            “You…” I trail off, my body shaking from another coughing fit. “I can’t breathe.” Something hits the door, making it shake on its hinges.

            “They aren’t going to save you. No one wants you in their life, so they’ll get rid of you.” He brings his foot back, and kicks me in the gut. I curl myself up, protecting my stomach and chest. He comes up behind me and kicks me underneath my ribcage, off to the left of my spine. My side erupts in pain.

            “Stop it,” I roar. I try to jump to my feet, but my blood is replaced with pain. I fall back down, and reach out my right arm to pull myself across the floor. I try to latch onto the floor, but I can’t move my wrist, or half my hand. I move my other hand out, managing to grab a chair and move myself forward. I try to move my lower half, but everything burns.

            “You think you can get away?” he asks from behind me. He doesn’t move from his spot, seeming since I had barely moved a foot. “I asked you a question. Answer me.” He yells the last part, his voice making my ears ring. I remain quiet, my eyes locked on an award sitting on a shelf. I hear steps behind me. His foot collides with my head, and I black out for a minute. When I come to, he’s beating my face in with his fists. I roll over to my side, blood leaking out of my mouth.

            “Delirious, you don’t hurt me,” I try to yell, but it sounds more like a whisper. He stops hitting me, and instead crouches down next to me.

            “If it doesn’t hurt, then you can stand. So, get up,” he growls. I struggle into a sitting position, grimacing at the pain. I hold back the screams and whimpers as I grab onto a chair and get onto my knees. He kicks the chair out from under me, causing me to fall on my face. My head slams into the floor, and a pained scream escapes from my lips. “Without help.” His foot presses into my neck, and I hear a gun cock.

            “You’ll die without me. I’m your life force.” I feel the cold metal press against my temple.

            “You think that I can’t survive without you?” He presses his heel into my throat, cutting off my air.

            “Luke,” I scream. I start coughing again, this time spitting out blood.

            “Oh. I bet that collapsed lung hurts a little. I won’t know, no body, you know?” The door moves again, and Delirious turns to stare at it. He groans, moves to grab a chair, and pushes it under the handle. The door cracks loudly as the wood snaps. The handle falls out of the door after jiggling it. The door slams inwards, and Luke stands there, Draven right behind him.

            “Call the police,” he whispers to Draven. She runs away, hopefully calling the police. Luke runs into the room, coming over to me. Delirious comes up behind him, kicking him in the back of the knees. He drops, but soon recovers and gets up. He swings a punch, but D (Delirious) catches it, turns him around, and bends his arm behind him. Luke lets out a scream as I hear a pop. I grab onto the chair and start getting myself up. Adrenaline makes the pain slightly bearable.

            “Jonathan, don’t move,” Draven yells, charging into the room. She jumps onto D’s back, and sinks her teeth into his shoulder. He growls at her, and reaches around to grab her. When his arms can’t reach, he backs into a wall. She stays on, using her nails to scratch him. Luke grabs a book with his non-dislocated shoulder, and smashes it into D’s face.

            “Police,” a voice shouts. Luke drops the book and steps back. A whole squad of people charge into the room, each with a gun in their hands. D drops Draven, and gets thrown onto the ground. But, he’s not Delirious anymore. Because he’s back in my head.

            **_Don’t pass out on me, buddy. Don’t let that slight concussion get you down._** My head pounds as I cough up more blood. Then my vision goes black, and everything goes numb.      


	7. Chapter Seven *SMUT WARNING*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draven and Luke go to the hospital to see Jonathan.

**Draven’s PoV**

 

            “Let me see him,” I scream at the doctor.

            “Ma’am, he needs time to heal. We can’t let you in there yet.” His voice remains calm, like he’s used to being screamed at.

            “Is he okay?” I ask, my voice shaking with emotion.

            “He’s stabile now. But we can’t promise anything.”

            “Whatever. I’m done with you. Just…just leave.” He nods and walks off, leaving me by myself. I move to a chair, holding back tears. _It’s all my fault. I made him go._

            “Draven, how’s he doing?” Luke asks, walking into the waiting room. He takes a seat next to me. I glance over at him to see his arm in a sling.

            “They say he’s stabile. But, I’m not allowed to see him.”

            “One good thing came out of this. Delirious can’t bother him anymore. Have they told you what’s wrong with him?”

            “They haven’t said anything. But did you see all the blood? I don’t…I don’t think he’s going to make it,” I croak out.

            “Don’t talk like that. That kid’s gone through so much and he’s always come through. He’ll be out of this hospital as soon as humanly possibly, maybe even before that.”

            “You don’t understand, Luke. What if he’s…different?” He turns to look at me.

            “Different? What exactly do you mean by that?”

            “What if he’s scared of people? If they really got, you know, _him_ he’d have everything to himself for once. We don’t know what happened in there. He could have seriously messed him up, and if he did, that’s on me. I made him go.” He turns to look at the ground.

            “What do you want with him?”

            “Excuse me?” I ask, my voice coming out shrill.

            “What do you want Jonathan for? You don’t want him for his personality. It’s not his money or anything you’re after. So what is it? What are you using him for?”

            “I’m not using him. He’s interesting to be around.”

            “So now he’s a damn animal? Are you a reporter studying crazy people? If so, I’m sure you have plenty to write about.”

            “Stop,” I growl.

            “What? Am I getting too close to the truth? You don’t want to accept it, but it’s the fucking truth. You’re using him. Both of us know it, and I’m not going to let you. He’s like a brother to me, and I won’t let you hurt him. Get out of here.” His voice remained low, probably because we were in a very public place.

            “I’m not leaving him. I’m still here after two attacks. You think I would do that for money? No. It’s because I like him. Maybe you should leave. I’m waiting to see him.”

            “He doesn’t need to see you. You were a one night stand. Nothing more, but much less. He goes out and sleeps around when he’s upset. You weren’t the first and you won’t be the last.”

            “That’s bullshit,” I claim, standing up so I tower over him for once.

            “How so?” He asks, standing up as well. My eyes come to his chest when he’s at his full height. Tall mother fucker.

            “You should know. Seeming since you’re brothers, and all.”

            “No. I don’t know. Someone kept him out all night. And when I got to him, I find that you’ve caused him one attack. Followed by two more recently. They have never been this bad or frequent. You’re causing all this shit.” I try to hold back the tears, but I feel one rush down my cheek, quickly followed by more. Luke’s face shifts to guilt, then back to anger, like he’s stuck between the two emotions.

            “I’m sorry. I don’t want to lose him, and I know it’s selfish. It’s all my fault, but I don’t want to leave.” I stumble forward, hoping to get outside, but Luke catches me in his arms. He pulls me against him, and I’m too tired to resist. I bury my face in his chest, letting years of built up anger and pain out. “I didn’t mean to, Luke. You know that, right?” I whimper against him.

            “Shh…” he whispers. “It’s not your fault. I was just angry. I didn’t mean anything I said. I wanted him to get help too. If you wouldn’t have been there, who would have called the cops?” I manage to pull myself together a few minutes later.

            “Thanks, Luke. I’m still sorry.” He lets out a sigh, and shrugs it off. I’m about to sit back down, when I hear a voice.

            “Get away. Get away from me. No. Drop it. Don’t touch me,” a very familiar voice shouts. I turn to look at Luke. He stares at the hallway where the voice came from.

            “He’s awake,” I say weakly. He keeps screaming for another minute, before it abruptly ends. Luke takes off running, and I follow behind him. Nurses surround one door, obviously Jonathan’s.

            “Sir, you can’t come in here,” one of them says. Luke pushes them to the side and throws open the door. We both walk in. The room is the definition of clean; white walls, ceiling, and floor, with lights that are way too bright. Doctors walk around in white lab coats. Stainless steel tables hold scalpels, shots, and random other instruments. Jonathan lays on the bed, restraints holding down his arms and legs.

            “You can’t be in here. You need to leave,” one doctor says.

            “Can it. We’re staying in here. You guys can’t do anything else with him. He’s stabile, and without some type of money, you can’t operate. You can monitor him from the cameras. And if anything happens, I’ll be sure to press that button to get someone in here,” I say, pointing at a button attached to the bedside table. They shrug and leave.

            “Shitty hospital if you ask me,” Luke mumbles.

            “I’d say so. Just left their patient without knowing who we are. They only have one camera in here as well.” I take the chair closest to the bed. The sight of him in such a state is horrifying. A tube sticks out of his throat, connected to a machine where IVs hang. Three IVs stick out of his arm; blood, a clear liquid, and something I’d never seen before. I grab his hand and see red marks on his wrists from the restraints digging into him.

            A blanket covers his lower half, leaving his chest bare, and showing a bandage. Blood mats his hair, and though they wiped it off, I can see the outline of where blood was on his face. His breathing sounds ragged, and his chest doesn’t seem to rise as high as it used to. His left side is bruised almost all the way up. A bandage covers the back of his head, red covering most of it.

            “Can you still say he’ll be fine?” I ask Luke.

            “Yeah. He’s been through worse. Trust me on this.” We sit there in silence, waiting for him to wake up, or at least move. Finally, I drift off to sleep.

 

*******

            “Draven?” a weak voice asks. I open my eyes to see Jonathan. He’s still strapped to the bed, but he doesn’t have a tube down his throat anymore. His eyes are focused on me. I stand up and pull him into a hug, which doesn’t work very well, and ends up with me on top of him. His bare skin feels warm under my hands. I glance over to see if Luke is still in the room, but he’s not. I cup his face with my hands as I kiss him.

            “Does this turn you on?” he asks, a small smile on his face. I laugh, him soon joining. His laugh turns into a cough.

            “Are you okay?” He nods.

            “Yeah. I’d be better without these restraints.” I hear him pull against them. I look at them, and see it’s just a simple buckle, like a belt. I undo one of his hands, then the other. I pull the blanket off him and undo his legs. I glance up at him, and notice he’s only in his boxers.

            “Not too shy, are we?” He chuckles, and tries to get into a sitting position. He lets out a groan as he swings his legs off the bed. “Just stay there. I’ll get you some clothes.” He moves to stand up, and I push him back down, causing him to whimper slightly. “Lay down. You don’t need to get more hurt.” His hand grabs my wrist as I turn to look for his clothes.

            “Come here,” he says, patting the bed. “Please.” I walk back to the bed, standing next to it. He tugs on me, pulling me onto the bed. 

            “What about Luke?” I ask.

            “What about him? He wasn’t here when I woke up. He probably got bored and left.” He pulls me onto him, kissing me.

            “Keep your dirty thoughts to yourself,” I say as I pull away from the kiss. “You’re hurt, so we aren’t doing anything.”

“Come on. That doesn’t seem fair.”  
“It’s plenty fair. What if someone walked in?”

“Who cares? Let ‘em walk in,” he whines.

“You can’t sit up without hurting.”

“Then I won’t sit up.” His hands run down my chest, stopping on my waistband. He undoes the button on my jeans, and slowly pulls the zipper down.

“I think I liked it better when you were tied down,” I say, making him chuckle.

“Then tie me back down,” he growls, running his hands along my hips. “And if you’re so worried, lock the door.” I move off him, get up, and lock the door.

“We aren’t doing anything,” I say, even though I can feel the heat in my groin.

“Uh huh,” he says as I crawl back on top of him. His hands slip into my jeans, groping my ass. A smirk appears on his face. “Nothing on underneath. Is it the same up top?” he asks, his voice low and husky.

“Why don’t you find out?” He pulls a hand out from my pants, and takes off my jacket. His hand snakes up my shirt, feeling every bit of skin. He moves to pull my shirt over my head, and I notice a gash on his arm, a bruise covering the skin around it. Once he gets my shirt off, I can see the pain on his face. “Jonathan, we can do this another time. If it hurts too much-” I start, but he cuts me off.

“Take off your pants,” he says, his voice firm and commanding. “Or I’ll do it.” I get up and pull my jeans down; taking my time to tease him. He pulls me back onto him easily, and I can feel his cock against me. I pull off his boxers, and run my hand up his leg. Before I can touch him, he grabs my hand. “Touch yourself.”

“What?” I ask, almost laughing. I couldn’t have heard him right.

“Touch yourself for me.” He guides my hand up to my folds and waits for me to do as told. I slowly move one finger along my clit, circling it. “More,” he growls. I bring my hand down lower, and push one finger into myself. I pull it out and bring it into my mouth, sucking on it. I feel his cock twitch beneath me, and I know he won’t be able to take it much longer. I reach for myself again, and graze him with my fingers before I push two fingers into me. I let out a moan, feeling him twitch again. I lean back as I thrust my fingers in and out, letting out moans and getting louder with each one.

            One of his hands grabs mine, and pulls it away from myself, while the other takes its place. His fingers are rough against my warmth, and bigger than mine. Three fingers work their way into me, stretching my walls for him. He pulls me to his mouth and gives me a sloppy kiss before sucking on my breasts. I put one of my hands onto the bed frame, not sure if I can hold myself up. He pulls his fingers out of me, and wraps them around my waist. I feel his tip rub against me before he thrusts into me. He pushes me down onto it, his fingers on my sides no doubt leaving bruises.

            He gives me no time to adjust to his size before he moves his hips. I let out a cry, but he continues to rock his hips into mine. He moves me up and down on himself, making me moan out his name. He moves his hands up, pulling me flush against him. My skin sticks to his. I can hear his frantic breathing in my ear as he continues pounding into me. I bury my face in his shoulder, trying to muffle my moans and screams. His tongue searches my neck.

            “Fuck, Jonathan,” I scream out as my walls tighten around him, and a blinding orgasm hits me.

            “That is what you’re doing,” he whispers into my ear. He reaches down and roughly runs his thumb over my clit. He spanks my ass, sending pleasure through me. “Let me on top,” he pants, thrusting into me harder. I grab his hand, pressing his fingers onto me harder. I grab his other hand and put it in the restraint. I restraint both his hands, and get off him. He moves to grab me, but soon realizes he can’t.

            “Draven, don’t be a tease,” he begs. He leans his head back, moving his hips in hopes for friction. I grab his legs and hold him down, then take him in my mouth. I hear him struggle against the restraints, wanting to touch me. I suck on his balls, my hand running up his length. I move my tongue up his shaft, circling his tip with it. I hear his breath hitch, and pull away from him.

            “Want me to clean that?” I ask, indicating the cum dripping from his cock and splattered along his stomach. Without waiting for an answer, I put my tongue to work; licking all of it off.

            “Not cool,” he says, trying to catch his breath. “Take these off.” He pulls on the restraints for extra effect.

            “What do I get in return?”

            “I just gave you something,” he says, clearly ready to pull the restraints off by himself. I tilt my head in confusion.

            “Wait. You gave me something? What was it?” He groans.

            “Wasn’t good enough for you? Need some tongue action?” I laugh, and reach to undo his restraints. His wrists are rubbed raw from them, but he doesn’t seem to notice. I help him into his boxers, still unsure of where his clothes were. I clothe myself, and crawl next to him. I rest my head on his chest, trying not to touch his wounds.

            “What happened here?” I ask, pointing to the gash in his arm. He sighs.

            “He hit me with a lamp. Anything else you want to ask?”

            “What the hell happened in there?”

            “He left my body, and took over the therapist. Then he attacked me. When I tried to leave, he wouldn’t let me. He fucked up my arm, and then he beat in my chest. When that didn’t work, he kicked me in the back and head. Then he punched me in the face, choked me, and pressed a gun to my head. That’s about when you got there.”

            “At least he’s gone, right?”

            “Uh…yeah. At least he’s gone.” He pauses. “Surgery isn’t going to be cheap, you know.”

            “Surgery? They didn’t mention that to me.”

            “I almost died because I couldn’t breathe. And I know something’s broken. They had a thing in my chest earlier. Something happened to my lung, because it hurts like hell to take a breath.”

            “We’ll find a way to pay for it. It’ll work out.”

            “I don’t really care if I get it. Seems like a waste.”

            “You aren’t dying,” I say as my eyes wander down to his legs. Marks line his legs, some new and some faint scars. His wrists looked the same. “I really do like you, Jonathan.” He seems shocked to hear me say it, and his eyes avert my gaze. He seems to be about to say something when someone knocks on the door. I jump up and unlock it. Luke walks in.

            “There is a squad of nurses and doctors on their way. I don’t know what they want, but I don’t think it’s anything good.”


End file.
